Never Too Old
by MadamPuddifoot
Summary: Zevran constantly attempts to woo Wynne, to no avail. Despite his insistence that she isn't too old, she refuses to get involved. Will she ever give in to desire? Zevran/Wynne. Smut.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own any part of Dragon Age.

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><p>It was nothing she had anticipated, traveling with a Grey Warden. She knew it would be dangerous and that she'd have to kill darkspawn and other potential foes. But Wynne would have never dreamed of recruiting assassins and apostates, of making deals with back alley criminals, or of having to steal. She was going against everything she'd learned over the many years she had lived. Yet, she continued to serve the Grey Warden in the important task of ending the blight- whether it was through all means necessary or not. She was a firm believer in that the end does not always justify the means. Now, she wasn't so sure.<p>

They had just returned from a side excursion to Denerim in order to fulfill some duty that an Antivan Crow had sent them to do. Any allies they could muster, they must. Exhausted, Wynne was glad to be back at camp. She sat at the foot of her tent, observing the young Warden and Alistair awkwardly flirting with each other. She smiled thinking of her young days, slightly envious of what the Warden had now. She hadn't approved of the budding relationship at first, but after mulling it over, wisdom informed her of its beauty in such hideous times. She watched them for some time while also mending the hole in one of Alistair's shirts, until she noticed them bed together in his tent. She sighed and returned to her own tent, folded the now mended shirt, laid down, and fell asleep almost instantly.

There was shuffling outside her tent. Wynne awoke instantly at the noise. Her heart beat sped up and she held her breath. Her staff was in the corner of the tent. Despite her age, she was able to move swiftly and quietly while she obtained it. She heard a low murmur and another pair of footsteps join the shuffling of the first pair. She moved to the small opening in her tent and slightly opened it to see what was outside. She saw Alistair and the Warden picking up around the camp. It seemed as though the accumulation of followers was starting to make the camp less than cozy. The sun was just starting to come up over the horizon and the light that cascaded on the grounds showed empty bottles that once held alcohol and assorted trash strewn all over the place. Wynne sighed and figured she ought to help. She put her old Enchanter's Robes on, intending to wash the others after she had a bath in the nearby river. Grabbing Alistair's mended shirt, she vacated her tent and approached the pair.

"Oh, good morning, Wynne! We didn't know you'd be up quite so early," said Alistair.

"I may be old, Alistair, but I'm just as capable as any of you. Here, I've mended your holey shirt. I hope it keeps up this time," Wynne replied.

"I won't look like such a mangy mutt now, thanks to you!"

The Warden smiled and said, "I love when you look like a mangy mutt."

"Then I'll be sure to wear this when we're alone," he replied, laughing.

"So, what can I do to help? It looks like an Ogre got loose out here," said Wynne, surveying the area.

"Seems as though our camp mates decided to have a little party without us. That, or Oghren was just having a fun time with himself," said Alistair, pointing to Ohgren's tent. It seemed he didn't quite make it inside, since he was lying face down on the ground right outside of it.

"We checked his pulse to be sure he was okay," said the Warden. "Seems like he is doing just fine."

"Oh, Oghren. He sure knows how to have a good time. I envy him sometimes," said Wynne as she bent over to pick up an empty bottle. Something, or rather someone, caught her eye while she was bent over. Zevran was leaning against a nearby tree, staring rather obviously in Wynne's direction, her rear end in the air. She quickly snapped back up to regain composure. She would not allow a young man to eye her in such a way. Wynne made her way over to him to give him a stern talking to.

As she approached, Zevran looked her over quite extensively. She couldn't help but notice his eyes pass over her bosom more times than she'd like to admit.

"I'd appreciate it if you would keep your eyes to yourself. The last thing this old woman needs is a smitten young lad breaking her heart."  
>"But, my darling Wynne, I have no intention of doing that. You clearly have no desire for myself, so all I can do is admire from afar," he replied.<p>

Wynne flushed. Though she was very flattered, his persistence was starting to become annoying.

"Then perhaps we could work something out. How about you stop eying me so conspicuously. I wouldn't really mind if I didn't know you were doing it," she said.

Zevran's eyes wandered back to her chest.

"Stop that!" she exclaimed.

"I cannot help it. Your robes outline your supple breasts, it's hard for me to look away."  
>"Yes, well, your armor seems to make you bulge below, but you do not see my eyes constantly lingering there!" she recanted.<br>"I love it when you get feisty. Alas, tis not my fault the Warden insists I wear chainmail. But, if you perhaps wish to see the cod piece go, I wouldn't mind showing you what lies beneath," Zevran replied with a stunning smile.

"You are impossible," she said, and she turned to walk away.

She reached her tent before realizing that she hadn't bathed for a while.

"Alistair?" she called.  
>"Yes, Wynne?" he replied from his tent.<br>"I'm going to head down to the river for a bath. I'll be back in a little bit."  
>"See you then," he said.<p>

Wynne grabbed some of her homemade soaps from her tent and began winding her way through the trees that surrounded the camp. When she spotted a large boulder, she knew she reached the river.

She looked around to ensure no one was around and that she was safe. She leaned her staff against the boulder and began to undress. Slowly, she stepped into the river.

The river wasn't as cold as she had thought. But, it wasn't warm either. Her skin erupted into goosebumps. Before she reached the deepest part of the river, she picked up her soap. The deepest part barely covered her breasts, but that was better than being overly shallow.

She began to rub the soap all over her body. Her mind wandered. As always, it seemed to wander to a familiar elf. She imagined taking his hair down and running her fingers through it. His quick hands caressing her old body.

Wynne closed her eyes, she shouldn't be thinking about that. It was wrong. She was too old for him. He deserves someone far younger, more able. But, the more she tried to push him from her mind, the more her mind wandered to secluded places and sexual encounters with him. It didn't help that he persisted with his compliments and the looks he gave her that suggested he wanted to do more than just look at her.

She smiled. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give him what he wants, cave into what she wants. After all, she may not be around much longer; shouldn't she experience the thrill of romance at least one last time?

Her mind wandered yet again, resuming the thoughts she was previously having of his quick hands exploring her body. Closing her eyes, she began to massage her left breast, brushing over her nipple, imagining Zevran doing the same thing to her. A moan escaped her lips.

Suddenly, she heard a noise from behind her. Her eyes snapped open and she spun around as fast as she could. She looked around in every direction, but could not see a thing. She looked further in to the trees, but nothing came to fruition.

"Well, well," said a familiar voice from beside her.

Wynne gasped and rushed to get out of the river. Zevran has quietly removed his clothes and entered the water without much detection from Wynne. Even his trick of making noise on the opposite side of the bank worked perfectly.

"Now, now, my darling Wynne," he said, taking her hand before she made her way out of the water. "I thought you might… enjoy… my company."

"Zevran!" Wynne cried, incredibly perturbed by this turn of events.

"You were enjoying yourself without me. I couldn't have that," Zevran said, smiling.

Wynne flushed. He must have been watching her for some time. "How dare you watch me! I can't believe you wou-"

She was cut short when Zevran crashed his lips to hers. He pulled her in closer to him and she felt his hardened member pressing into her thigh. She pressed her body against him; any restraint she previously had melted away in that moment.

His tongue worked like magic in her mouth. Twisting and turning. His lips sucking hers. She was surprised she didn't finish right there and then. She tried to stifle a moan, but Zevran caught onto it and made him even wilder. He slowly moved her toward the giant boulder, which was so large it hung into the river.

She was pinned against the rock, Zevran still kissing her ferociously. He cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs over her nipples, eliciting moans from Wynne. She hadn't experienced this in such a long time. She'd forgotten how amazing it felt. Zevran stopped kissing her and lowered his head to meet her breasts. He took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, flicking his tongue over the tip of it. Wynne leaned her head back against the boulder and closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of Zevran against her, his mouth on her breasts.

"Oh, Zevran," she moaned quietly.

His hands began to slide down from her chest to her abdomen, to her hips, her thighs, and finally to her womanhood. His fingers explored her womanly folds and he rubbed firmly against her bud.

Wynne wrapped her legs around him (which was easier to do while half way submerged in water), and bucked, wanting him to be in her.

"So soon, my darling Wynne?" Zevran chuckled.

The look in her eyes told him that she had wanted this for a long time.

"I'd be happy to oblige you," he smiled. He kissed her gently while he pressed his tip against her. He slowly entered her and he was happy to find that she was very moist.

"Oh Maker," cried Wynne. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as Zevran pressed on. He rocked slowly back and forth until he was fully submerged within her.

Wynne clutched around him, savoring the feeling of having him inside her. He quicken his pace causing Wynne to firmly grasp his shoulders.

"Please, faster," she begged.

Zevran sucked on her neck while he moved in and out of her much faster. Small waves splashed against the boulder as he quickened his pace, trickling them both with water. Wynne's breathing hitched, her voice was much higher pitched.

"Maker, yes!" cried Wynne as she began to tremble and shake. Her back arched against the boulder her eyes rolling to the back of her head as the intense orgasm consumed her.

Zevran held onto her firmly, not losing his pace. He was so very close.

"Oh, Wynne," he muttered as he reached his own climax, filling her with his seed. He slowed his pace and ultimately stopped but stayed within her. He grabbed her face and kissed ferociously again before laying his head on her shoulder and relaxing against her. The feel of her heaving breasts against his bare skin was more wonderful than he had ever dreamed.

She rested her head on his, stroking his soft blonde hair.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Anything for you, my darling Wynne."

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><p>[<strong>AN: **Thank you for reading and I hope you've enjoyed this little story. I've been working on it for some time (almost a year, to be honest) and finally got around to finishing it. I've been so consumed with the world of Dragon Age lately that it's hard not to think of things I want to write. Here's to hoping we learn a bit more about DA3 this year! Please review!]


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